


How it Broke

by elison



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Threesome - F/F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2614970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elison/pseuds/elison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most of it takes place several years before the show, but also has spoilers for 1x08. <br/>After a successful case, Annalise, Bonnie, and Sam have a drunken threesome, and things are never the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How it Broke

**Author's Note:**

> This is from Bonnie's perspective and heavy on the unrequited love aspect/unhealthy stuff.

Champagne popped open to the cheers of the entire team. They were celebrating their case, a landmark win that would further cement Annalise Keating as a legend in the courtroom. They were all younger then, brimming with passion and enthusiasm, taking on the world and establishing their positions. Interns came and went but Bonnie always stayed.

Bonnie Winterbottom had never in her life seen a more gorgeous woman than Annalise, the way her voice rose and she opened up like a thousand roaring celebrants, captivating her audience. Her wit was quick as a viper and brought victory out of defeat time and again. She seemed so tall, taller than anyone and her very being glowed like the halo of the sun. Bonnie would have burned; she would have been blinded for the sheer awe Annalise struck in her, the woman unbelievable perfection.

There was no doubt in her mind that she was blessed to be granted the pleasure of Annalise’s company, to orbit so close to her star. She made herself good, as good as she could be, as close as she could get to invaluable because she knew that her desire in life was to be right next to Annalise’s side every step of the way. She wanted to be her permanent fixture, her partner when things got messy, she wanted to see the brightness reflected in Annalise’s eyes when they smiled at each other, victorious and pleased and assured. 

It was unfortunate, then, that Annalise had a husband. Even worse, beyond imagination, was his complete lack of proper worship for a woman as accomplished, as mind-shatteringly beautiful, as smart and decisive, as Annalise. No, Bonnie thought, if Annalise must be married to this man then at least she was there to fill in the shadows and the spaces when he was not. There was no one better in the world, she believed, at premeditating Annalise’s needs and considering her before everything else. Husbands were one thing; husbands, especially ones with wandering hands and unfaithful eyes, were background noise. She, on the other hand, made things happen. She constantly watched out for Annalise, for the good of the team, she smoothed the ship so the captain never felt a bump, and she did it well. She may have been young, and it may have been new, but there was no doubt in her mind that this was the place she was meant to be in her life.

It was truly a glorious win, and they were so full from it, fizzing like the champagne that they drank and drank and drank. The lighting seemed softer, then, and the house quieter. Sam had put on a record after the rest of the team filed out with hearty goodbyes, and it was just her, Annalise, and Sam. He brought another bottle over to the table and made yet another toast, the grins easy on their faces. Bonnie raised her glass, beyond happy to be sitting next to Annalise on the couch. The other woman had kicked off her heels after the others left, and she was so soft in that moment that Bonnie thrilled and relaxed at the same time, melting into where their arms were touching. Sam sat heavily next to Bonnie, bottle in one hand and already refilling their drinks. He squished into her, keeping up a steady stream of chatter as he did, and the only thing unlocking her tenseness was that it pushed her further into Annalise’s side.

Eventually they ran out of the bottle, the three of them so laughably past politely drunk, and Sam used that free hand to curl over the both of them, eyes bright and interested and so, so obvious as he traded between looking at her and Annalise, his hand rubbing along Annalise’s shoulder and his smell and heat plastered to Bonnie’s side.

It was stupid, that thing they did that night. That thing never spoken again but apparent in every silent moment. They worked well together. They moved on. Except, it seemed, they never really had. Annalise never quite trusted her around Sam; a laughable idea to Bonnie because there was only one Keating for which she held a torch and it wasn’t him. There was a distance after that night, calculating, measuring. Bonnie often wondered if it was worth it, getting that single night with her idol at the expense of her trust. It was useless to hope, to wonder; there was no changing it. All she could do was try, try again and again to prove herself to Annalise, try to win back that easiness that they had before. They were drunk, they had all awkwardly agreed, laughing stiltedly as if it meant nothing. They were drunk, but they made a great team, and why let that go to waste? But it was the hesitations, the second glances, the heavy silences that followed that immortalized that one stupid, stupid thing that they did.

“You did quite well on this case,” Annalise had said, her body reaching out to Sam’s ministrations, giving him access to rub her shoulder. It took Bonnie’s breath away, feeling Annalise closer to her than she ever had been, the line where their bodies touched like a stream of fire, and she tilted her head back, leaning it on Sam’s arm, to boozily meet warm dark eyes. Annalise’s face was always something to look at, but seeing it that close, mere breaths away from one another as her eyes half-lidded in pleasure from Sam’s hands, was truly the height of her existence. It was the pinnacle of achievement, seeing Annalise from the perspective of a lover. It may have been a lie, but it was more than she’d ever gotten before. 

“You decided this case, Annalise,” Bonnie replied, breathy and punch-drunk and overwhelmed by her lips being so close. “Your closing was one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, I think you both make a great team,” Sam announced with a brisk rub to Bonnie’s arm, which just as quickly turned slow, wandering, sensual. It kept up the pace with his other hand which was kneading at the base of Annalise’s skull. Bonnie’s eyes tracked from Annalise to Sam and back again, seeing the two of them in some kind of silent communication as he picked up one of her hands to massage her palm. Annalise’s hand met hers, palm to palm, and she brushed along the edge of her thumb. It was a light, light touch, almost tickling her, but its potency drove her breaths faster and faster. 

Sam brought their two hands to his mouth, kissing at the seam where they met, and all Bonnie could think was that his lips had touched Annalise’s, and that she was so close to what she wanted but still shy of the real deal. He tugged Annalise closer, making her hover over Bonnie, practically on her lap, leaning into her husband. He took her mouth in a slow kiss, inches from Bonnie’s face, and she skirted her free hand up Annalise’s side, expecting at any moment to be reprimanded, scolded like a misbehaving pup.

Instead, she felt Annalise stretch her body out to her, and she skimmed her fingers over the bumps of her ribcage, hardly daring to believe, not knowing where to look, alternately flitting between the increasingly heated kiss between the Keatings and the path of her hand touching the woman of her dreams. A moan caught in Annalise’s throat, filtered through her kiss and straight to Bonnie’s groin just as she edged over the material of Annalise’s bra. The couple came apart, breathing hard, and Bonnie pressed the fullness of her hand to Annalise’s body, just shy of her breast, wanting to remember it and the feel of it if this was where things stopped.

“How about we take this upstairs?” Sam asked, looking between the two of them but clearly needing Annalise’s approval. It could have been so awful, it was such a lecherous line, so predictable, but it was clear that there was no stopping this now that it had started. 

“Let’s go,” Annalise said decisively, and then Bonnie was faced with looks from the both of them, and she tried to say “yes” without sounding too desperate (because she was; she was so, so desperate) but all that came out of the lump in her throat was a noise that she quickly covered by nodding hopefully. 

They relocated to the bedroom, stumbling all the while, attached at the hands and occasionally laughing, and what could be an awkward moment was once again saved by Annalise’s quick thinking and leadership skills. “You both need to take your clothes off,” she said, matter of fact and with the understanding that she was to be obeyed. 

Bonnie started tugging her blouse over her head instantly, knowing not to question her good fortune. Sam, however, pressed Annalise into the wall and growled out that she should go first, smiling and nipping at her throat. “Make me,” she replied, a teasing grin on her face, and Bonnie stood there for one long moment in her bra, watching the married couple undress one another, feeling cold and very confused. That was never how it went in her fantasies - in her fantasies Annalise was always as commanding as she was in the courtroom, and she felt stupid and betrayed by the unexpected change. 

“We can’t leave poor Bonnie out in the cold,” Sam finally said, pulling her into the triangle of their bodies. He kissed her, hard, and all she thought was Annalise’s lips, Annalise’s lips. When he pulled back he was flushed and satisfied, and when he then ordered her to kiss Annalise, she knew it was all worth it. 

She looked at Annalise, wanted her permission first, wanted it to be her ordering to kiss her, but she would take what she got, and when she leaned in she was met halfway in the most indescribably good, fulfilling moment of her life. As they kissed, she placed her hands delicately along the planes of her face, wanting this to be just like she imagined. She wanted it to be perfect, she wanted to be Annalise’s only girl, she wanted it to be the other way around. She pretended that they were married, that they had met this associate Psychology professor at a dinner, she and her partner Annalise, and they had decided to take the man home with them. Just a spin of fun, a wild night, for Bonnie and Annalise, and it meant nothing, he meant nothing to them but a bit of a thrill. She tried not to let her mind wander too far, didn’t want to realize she may be the thrill, no -- it was just her and Annalise, and maybe there was someone else in the room but that didn’t matter. None if it mattered. Annalise’s soft lips slid along her own and she wanted to freeze, she wanted to freeze this moment for eternity just as she was burning from the fullness of breath and heat and lips and tongue. 

They maneuvered to the bed, shedding clothes like skin, like armor, a trail leading to their ultimate destruction, and it was all softness and hardness, heady as the couple played their dominance games, Sam always pulling Bonnie in from the fringe. Sam always looking so self-congratulatory when the only thing Bonnie wanted was to see more and more of his wife. Chance worked in her favor as she was laid out against Annalise, kissing her like she’s afraid the dream will end any moment, their nakedness purifying her, settling an ache in her. She was between the two of them, all frantic moans and wetness. Sam couldn’t stop bringing it back to himself, his hands greedy, but Bonnie’s were greedier, mapping out every change in texture on Annalise’s body, dipping her head down to her breasts and laving heartfelt attention while Annalise kissed her husband, threaded her hands in her husband’s hair.

“I want you to eat out my wife,” Sam breathed, grinding himself into Bonnie’s backside, eyes wild with lust. Bonnie was exploring Annalise’s hipbone with her mouth and she paused again, looking up to Annalise for permission, needing her to tell her what to do. 

“Do it,” Annalise confirmed, lips parted and looking straight at her, the moment so sensual that Bonnie’s breath caught, and then she was moving downwards, chancing a glance up to Annalise taking and marking her husbands throat, leaving redness behind like a murder scene. Bonnie’s hands continued to touch the only woman to steal her heart, completely and utterly, and she left her kisses like a benediction at the juncture of thigh and groin. 

She paused a moment and stared, transfixed at her fingers making indents in Annalise’s dark thighs, and she felt washed out and colorless against the richness of her skin, feeling small and honored to be knelt, bowed, below her in worship. The smell of her could make gods weep, and so she gave her own pitiful attempt in service and dipped her head close, tasting Annalise for the first time. Nothing could have prepared her for the time she spent pleasuring Annalise, mouth heavy with her arousal as her thighs tensed and trembled around her. Bonnie dared look upon her perfection to see her head thrown back, her neck shimmering with sweat, rapture written upon her face. 

Sam was behind her, touching her as she lipped and pulled and sucked at Annalise, but she couldn’t focus on him even if she wanted to, too transfixed in giving everything to Annalise, wishing it would never end, wishing she could just give more. Her fingers joined her mouth, tentative, an unintentional mirror of what Sam was doing to her, his probing fingers joined by something much larger. It was a distant echo in the face of giving Annalise Keating an orgasm.

Annalise placed a tender hand along her cheek, looking down at her ensconced in her sex, and Bonnie lived for that, she absolutely fucking lived for that, because Annalise was so close, she could see it, and she was so unworthy of this, but she would try. Bonnie was dripping wet just by being immersed in Annalise and God, Annalise touched her like she was precious, and that moment was everything. Sam was behind her and Bonnie let herself be fucked, leaning into it because right now she could almost pretend that Annalise loved her. Then she was thrusting into Bonnie’s fingers, her body shaking, her beloved face awash with ecstasy, and Bonnie drank it in and felt overcome, putting every last bit of herself into that one desperate act. She felt Sam finishing inside her, it was too late, they were too drunk and sloppy to find a condom, and she tried so very hard to ignore the way he collapsed over her, pulling her up from Annalise like a doll so he could wrap his arms around the both of them. 

After a few short minutes, Sam started to snore, and she was in the middle, face to face with Annalise who kept looking at her with sleepy, satiated eyes. In the silence between his snores they watched each other and Bonnie dared to start rubbing the smooth back she was holding, never wanting to forget being allowed to hold her. 

“I think you should go,” Annalise whispered, and Bonnie pressed herself closer to her, wanting to deny her, but ultimately she released the pressure and nodded, clenching her jaw hard against her emotions. She was pretty sure that this was what heartbreak felt like. 

“I will,” she acceded, pulling on the shreds of her professionalism to get through it. She climbed out from between them, feeling unutterably weak and feeble. “I’ll see you here tomorrow,” she said, but it felt like a question.

“Yes,” Annalise answered, and in the long silence of Bonnie dressing herself, pushed herself up by an elbow. Bonnie paused, limbs pulled back in clasping her bra and baring her heart. “This isn’t going to happen again,” she stated, quiet and sure. Bonnie tried to smile, a near impossible task, and it came out as a grimace.

“Of course. Congratulations on the case.”

It was such a stupid, stupid thing that they did that night. It ruined her, it revitalized her, it cemented Annalise Keating as the one person to whom she would compare every other partner. It was almost the worst thing she ever did. 

It was, up until the night she got down on her knees and told Annalise that Sam had kissed her. The night she tried to make Annalise love her, to see the bad in him; that’s when she knew that she had done the stupidest thing, because she would never, ever love her after this.


End file.
